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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694063">free from fear</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkcorvids/pseuds/arklaygothic'>arklaygothic (clockworkcorvids)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meet-Cute, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Shopping Malls, Single Dad Leon S. Kennedy, and that's the real kicker, but bad things COULD happen, except it's less cute and more anxiety inducing, losing your child in a shopping mall and then losing your shit, no beta we die like men, no zombies, nothing bad happens, rpd stands for Real Proud Dad, the possibility of kidnapping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:49:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkcorvids/pseuds/arklaygothic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has been standing at the edge of the mall’s food court for at least five minutes when he notices the kid for the first time. She can’t be more than ten, and she looks confused, to say the least.<br/>He watches her, standing in one place, as she turns in a full circle, and then another, and then reluctantly sits down. <br/>And then she makes eye contact with him, fleeting and brief, for just a split second, and he sees a flash of fear that he recognizes. She’s lost, separated from whoever she came here with. She’s scared to ask for help. She can’t trust anyone. (He knows the feeling.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leon S. Kennedy &amp; Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Sherry Birkin &amp; Chris Redfield, Sherry Birkin &amp; Leon S. Kennedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>free from fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/27twinsister/pseuds/27twinsister">27twinsister</a>  in the  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/angstandhcprompts">angstandhcprompts</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>Any fandom!<br/>Character A is a little kid (under the age of 10) who gets lost in a public place and is scared to ask for help. Character B is an adult (can be a security guard/police officer/etc or just a random adult) and needs to help them find their parent/guardian.</p><p>or, as i like to call it: could someone please come retrieve the feral child in aisle 9 </p><p>the title is taken from the re3 (original and remake) save room theme, because we all need a brief reprieve from the fear, whether it be while playing a video game or living our lives <s>or reading fic about characters who really never get a fucking break let's be real</s></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chris has been standing at the edge of the mall’s food court for at least five minutes, staring at the kiosk full of cheap multitools and trying to size up if any of them are actually worth their price, when he notices the kid for the first time. A little girl, uncommon white-blond hair, wearing a little sailor outfit that looks like it’s either a well-made Halloween costume or something outlandishly expensive (maybe both, who knows). She can’t be more than ten, and she looks confused, to say the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watches her, standing in one place, as she turns in a full circle, and then another, and then reluctantly sits down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she makes eye contact with him, fleeting and brief, for just a split second, and he sees a flash of fear that he recognizes. She’s lost, separated from whoever she came here with. She’s scared to ask for help. She can’t trust anyone. (He knows the feeling.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something prickles in his mind, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but he tells himself he’s just paranoid, and he turns back to the multitools. He’s going to get security on his ass, though, if he stays there much longer, so he abandons the kiosk after a few more moments and wanders to the smoothie bar across the kiosk. It’s overpriced and, frankly, kind of pretentious in a strange, hippie kind of way, but the smoothies taste divine and it’s certainly the healthiest place in the food court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five minutes later, Chris is sitting on a bench at the edge of the food court, sipping his smoothie and debating whether he should go look for his sister’s congrats-on-making-it-through-your-first-year-of-college gift before or after he’s finished with said smoothie, when he notices that the girl is still there. Not in the same place, but she’s still wandering the food court, peering around tables and craning her neck to see the higher floors in the mall. She’s looking for someone, and is clearly having no luck finding them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drinking his smoothie slightly faster, he considers his options. He can go find security and risk the kid vanishing, which will undoubtedly weight on his conscience for the foreseeable future; he can move on with his life as if nothing has happened, which will weigh on his conscience even more, or he can risk the mortifying ordeal of having been too paranoid and approach her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smoothie is done, possibly too fast. He can hear Claire scoffing at him for chugging it, and also because it had kale in it. He’s on his feet, plastic cup in the nearest recycling bin, and he approaches the girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up at him as he comes close, fear and apprehension in her eyes, making herself smaller. Not a threat. She begins to back away, and he puts his hands up, palms out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing he wants right now is to come off as threatening in any way, to her or anyone else, so he crouches so they’re at eye level. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name’s Chris. Are you lost?” Chris inquires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl doesn’t miss a beat. Her eyes flick around, in every direction. She wants to run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not security, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chris</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she says, matter-of-factly, almost as if it’s a checkmate. Chris barely stifles a chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not. But you’ve been looking for someone for a while, and you’ll have a lot better luck finding them if you go to the security station first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know where that is. And how do I know you’re not a liar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn. Whoever taught this girl about stranger danger did a good job. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> good. She sounds like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be honest with you - you don’t know that. But I can take you to security, and you don’t even have to hold my hand, so you can run away any time if you want if you think you can’t trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes a long, thorough moment to consider this, as if carefully weighing all the pros and cons, all the possibilities. He gets the distinct sense that this kid, despite her age, is quite intelligent - wise, even. He thinks he’ll remember this encounter for a long time, even if their paths have only crossed briefly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds good,” she says after a long moment. “But if you get too close to me I’m going to punch you!” She places her hands on her hips and grins widely, showcasing multiple gaps in her teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad taught me </span>
  <em>
    <span>taekwondo</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She draws out each syllable slowly, making the pronunciation as precise - and also dramatic - as she can.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds like my kind of guy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Chris thinks, but does not say, because he’s not about to have that conversation with this kid for a number of reasons that, surprisingly, do not include the fact that she’s a kid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal, he says, straightening back up to his normal height. “Let’s go...what’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Sherry.” Sherry grins again, visibly more comfortable now that she’s reassured of her safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Sherry. Did you come here with your dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go to security, then. They can find him.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Sherry maintains a careful distance from Chris the whole way to security, even as she trails him, and he keeps an eye out in every direction, ready to sprint after anyone, ready to chase or fight if he has to. Maybe he’s making too big a deal out of it, but she’s smart not to trust him - and it means any prospective kidnapper could snatch her if he doesn’t pay close enough attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s filled with relief, though, as the security station comes into view - and then, panic, as an unfamiliar man rushes towards them before they even reach it, but then it turns into relief again as Sherry’s face lights up and she runs to meet the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leon!” she cries, and lets him sweep her up into his arms. He hugs her tightly, rambling about how worried he was in the classical manner of a doting parent, and it’s in this moment that Chris gets a good look at him. He’s tall, lean, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket, dark-wash jeans, and worn combat boots. He pushes dirty-blond bangs away from his eyes as he gently places Sherry on the floor, still holding her hand tightly, and sizes up Chris.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Chris,” Chris says quickly, the first words he thinks of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not security, Chris,” Leon says, a perfect echo of Sherry’s - his daughter’s - first words to Chris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris blinks, trying to figure out how to respond in a manner that won’t be awkward, creepy, or both, and quickly decides that plain awkwardness is far preferable to his other alternatives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. “No, I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon looks more than a little suspicious, and rightfully so. Sherry pulls on his hand at that moment, though, rescuing Chris from any further implosion of dignity, and grins up at her dad. “He was taking me to security so we could have them find you, an’ he said I didn’t have to hold his hand so I could run away if I wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon’s expression seems to cover every single emotion known to humankind in just the span of a second, but it settles on something between amusement and incredulity as he looks at Chris again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris rests his face in one hand, and sighs into his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says, partially muffled. He closes his eyes, wondering if he can wish away the embarrassment by concentrating hard enough, but all he finds is that Leon is losing his mind, the man is laughing so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he wheezes, as Chris opens his eyes and stares, half of his face still covered by his hand, at Leon. “I was so worried, but honestly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sherry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can, uh, I can go now if you want,” Chris says, simultaneously aware of the opportunity that is slipping away right before his eyes and the fact of how easy this conversation is coming to him, as natural as if he’s known Leon his whole life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, you don’t have to!” Leon insists, at the same time that Sherry lets out a loud and disappointed “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Awwwwww</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>cool!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them look at each other, and then at Chris. Leon squeezes Sherry’s hand, and she squeezes back, and Chris smiles both at the gesture and at the lightness of his own chest right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were going to go get lunch, actually,” Leon says. “Do you want to come with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris doesn’t think he has room to smile as much as he wants to right now, but he tries his damn hardest nonetheless. “I’d love that.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i post art and take commissions on <a href="https://twitter.com/aceofcorvids">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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